Day 58
Kelsey and I met king Kenny outside Towné House hotel in the morning. We had to go to the dock to pick up Kelly. She left last night after we all got into a fight. Luckily, I'm pretty good at not being awkward.
We decided coffee was a must before we went to the beach. Kenny obliged. He is the greatest.
The drive to Batu Feringgi took about half an hour, and it was gorgeous. The road was so windey, like Old North Road in Sand Springs. (The hilly one that Nat hates, but Kalen and I love.) There were tropical plants and trees lining one side and sparkling water on the other.
We passed some huge condominiums as well as some shabby-looking ones. Kenny explained to me that the Malay people lived in the run-down flats, while rich people, usually europeans, lived in the expensive condos. He said it was because the Malay had become lazy and didn't work to earn enough money to live somewhere else. There was a law in Malaysia which gave the Malay an allowance to take out loans and not repay them if they couldn't. I guess it was kind of like welfare, but it was hard to understand Kenny. He was Chinese and said that they didn't receive the same policy.
These condominiums were so huge. They took up an entire floor in the building. And they had incredible views. I'm sure they cost millions of dollars.
The beach was paradise. It's how I expected the Bahamas to be. Of course the beach was lined with hotels and resorts. Kenny took us right to the place where we could go horseback riding, parachuting, four-wheeling, on a banana boat or jet skiing. It was more expensive than we had planned, so we rented two jet skis for half an hour.
As we were climbing on the skis, two guys came over and offered to take our picture, or so I thought. I was going to say no because I figured they were going to make us pay for the picture later. It turned out they just wanted a picture with us. We agreed to that because it was funny.
Jet skiing is just as fun as ever. Kelly and Kelsey got on one together and I followed them around for a while. They were going to switch places after 15 minutes, but they couldn't figure out where on the beach our company was so they could go park and trade places. As they were sitting still and looking around, I came up beside them and gave them a good splash. It was pretty classic. I think I scared 'em a little bit. It still makes me laugh.
Man, I had a good time.
We lounged on some lawn chairs back on the beach, and Kenny was nice enough to go buy some water for us. He didn't want us to go to the store in our bikinis. I felt a little awkward in my bikini throughout the day because there were several muslim couples on the beach too. The wives were completely covered, as you'd expect. It was really only Americans who were so bare. There were vacationers and other SASers on the beach too. But some Chinese were there swimming in long shorts and t-shirts.
The guys who had taken pictures with us before came back and asked if they could have a re-do. They started talking to us and told us they were from Pakistan. I talked to them about Semester at Sea and asked if Pakistan was like India. They assured me it was nothing like how it is perceived on TV. “You should come visit. It's happening,”they said.
These Pakistanis were pretty confident in themselves, too. They asked where we were staying, which hotel specifically. I lied and told them the Towné House. Then they invited us to rinse off in their very large hotel room, which was on the beach. We kindly said no. Nice try guys, but we've been half-way around the world. We know what's up.
A little while later, as we were sunning, a Malay man came over to talk to us. He had already met some SAS kids I assume, and he began to ask me about it too. Everyone knows about the boat after a few days in port no matter where you go. He asked me why we were doing it and what we studied. I told him we were trying to get a better perspective of the way the world works and gain the ability to be more empathetic. He couldn't believe the opportunity we have and made sure to tell me how lucky we were. Thanks to this trip and seeing how little opportunity some people have, I know how lucky I am. I will never be able to thank my parents enough for letting me go on this trip.
Not surprisingly, I hear from almost every person I speak to about how lucky I am. But I brought this guy up because he really seemed to get it. He didn't just think, “Oh lucky them; they get to see the whole world,”as though this trip is just a vacation. He knew the real benefit that we are getting by interacting with people in all walks of life.
I know I'll never be able to forget the luxury that I live in compared to the boy I saw sleeping (hopefully) on the street in Salvador, Daniel living in a shanty house who wants to grow up to be a doctor in Namibia, miles of makeshift houses around Cape Town and tsunami victims in India. I wish I could feel like there was something I could do that would fix a life for even one of them. I donated 300 rand in India so a child could receive an education. That's fewer than six dollars. If it's so easy, why are there so many uneducated, underfed, uninsured people? That seems so simple.
Instead of gifts for Christmas, I would rather people donate ten dollars to some foreign aid organization. Wherever they prefer, for whatever cause. Maybe a few children can be given a new chance.
Kenny had let us keep our stuff in the teksi while we were at the beach, so didn't have our money to pay the guys for our jet skis. When we found Kenny to ask him to open the car for us, he opened his wallet and handed us each the amount we owed. He acted as if he was our grandpa. After we paid, he led us to a hose so we could rinse off before changing back into our clothes.
The Malay man followed us and picked up another hose to, uh, help spray us down, I guess. It was weird and uncomfortable. I have to say that this guy had the most intriguing eyes. They were an aquamarine blue. Not the sky blue that Kalen has, but a tint of the palest green, just like the Caribbean sea. Anyway, we must have looked good through those beautiful eyes, and that was unsettling for us. We sped things up so that we could put our clothes on.
King Kenny knew exactly the place to take us when we asked if he knew of any cheap, delicious, non-western restaurant. He took us to an Indian place. I had some really good lamb, chicken, cabbage and rice for 7.20 ringgit. That's about two dollars. I couldn't finish it all. The place also had–you guessed it–susu! Specifically “susu lembu,”which means cow milk. Because of the Mandarin influence, Malaysians say terima kasih, susu and titabaguse. But they say sama sama instead of kimbalah. And yes, I have used all of those words since I could speak.
After lunch we hit up the Tropical Fruit Farm. I thought the idea of trying new fruits for a few hours sounded pretty good. I also wanted to taste durian again. Well, it was out of season. And so was most of the fruit that we thought we were going to taste. We did get to try a tiny apple that contained more vitamin C than an orange. I thought it was a cherry. It was good though. They also let us try some star fruit and mango and other things. Nothing I hadn't tried before, though.
I learned the medicinal value of papaya, honey, nutmeg and some fruit called miracle fruit, which I'm not sure exists. Too bad none of those fruits helped alleviate mosquito bites because I got plenty of those while we were touring the farm. The tour was a bit of a let down, but I guess it was an experience.
After that, we had to change our evening plans. Originally we had wanted to go to a market for shopping, then we would go to a restaurant where we could watch a traditional dance performance. The problem was that we were exhausted from lack of sleep and being in the sun all day. But we also had two hours to kill before the market opened, and there was nothing to do.
Kenny spoke to some men sitting at the Farm to see what their advice was. They thought we should just head back to Georgetown and see an Indian dance in Little India. The restaurant was expensive, they said, and the market took a while before it really got set up and busy.
So king Kenny took us back to the hotel Malaysia, and we had to say goodbye to him. That was sad. He really was such a good, helpful guy. We paid him back the money we owed him, plus for all the driving he'd done. I wish he had seemed sad to see us go.
Then we took a nap. We decided to eat in a Thai place that Kenny had pointed out to us before. It was within walking distance of our hotel. Kenny sure did know what was up. The place was packed...with locals. We were lucky someone was leaving just as we got there. The food was dim sum style, and it was fun guessing what we were going to get. It all turned out to be absolutely scrumptious.
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